Beware: Soap Box Alert!!

I'm so fired up, so grossed out & so very sad all rolled into one. Can it be true that chicken farms are so grotesquely managed that millions of chickens are kept in the pitch-black dark during the day? That none of them have their complete set of feathers due to plucking each other in the rear? Can we seriously buy mass-produced chicken meat that is raised in such extremes that the hundreds-a-day dead are counted & thrown into buckets, compost, or incinerators? Seriously? It's shit. And we're shitty for supporting it with every $$ we throw at Tyson. ugh. Makes me sick.

In the boonies of MS, when I was supposed to be learning to use a compass, I discovered a row of 6 chicken houses that were operated by Tyson Farms. I, of course, was beyond curious to see all aspects of this business up-close & personal; my compass was quickly tossed aside. I wandered up to one of the doors and creaked it open, not really knowing what I would see next...it scared me, even the 2 inch space I was peering through. Chickens were everywhere!!!


The huge buildings were COVERED with chicken bodies in the dark ( my pics don't show the depth of these buildings). No cages, no infrastructure, just long water pipes and feeding bins. As I opened the door more, letting in more and more sunlight, the chickens became scared to death...from the closest to the farthest away, they started squawking in fear, climbing over each other to get away. The dead were literally trampled on even more. I didn't even go in, I just looked and looked and looked. I was in shock! This was real. I literally couldn't believe it. I became angry that this was the reality we supported. A cycle of anger, then sadness, then outrage, then pity....on and on. I even went so far as to quiz the feed-delivery man (this was the only person around) on what his views were of the business he was supporting. His answer was that he'd never even looked inside...what????

I've read so many books and heard so many stories, but seriously --- seriously --- you can't appreciate it (is that the right word?) until you see it for yourself. I'm not advocating that no one should eat chicken. I am simply requesting that if you should choose to eat this meat, then please eat ethically raised chickens. Anything less is not only not good for your body, but certainly can't be good for your soul.

**Some books to check out:
Slaughterhouse Blues
Slaughterhouse
Meat Market
and my all time favorite: The Ethics of What We Eat

And, as my final plug, I have to make mention of the very ignorant, nearing asinine, comment the guy I was with said : "If I don't look, then I don't have to know." Needless to say, I had to bite my tongue.

Educate yourselves people & act accordingly! This is total (chicken) shit!!

Pictures that speak.

(the one of Dad in the rain is probably my most favorite I've taken in a long time!)

Everything Happens for a Reason by Mira Kirshenbaum

This book was like going to some quasi-Cosmic Kindergarten. While I already subscribed to the idea that 'everything does happen for a reason', it was a nice & orderly reminder of why this is just so. She believes that all things happen to teach us lessons in one of ten categories:
1. To feel at home in the world
2. To totally accept yourself
3. To show that you can let go of fear
4. To bring you to the place where you can feel forgiveness
5. To help you uncover your true hidden talent
6. To give you what you need to find true love
7. To make you stronger
8. To discover the play in life
9. To live with a sense of mission
10. To help you become a truly good person.

If anyone is into this type of thing, I totally recommend this book as a primer in these beliefs.

" In a dark time, the eye begins to see." - Theodore Roethke
"Happy is the person who can know the reasons for things." - Virgil

Time Marches On.

My life in images this week:

A friend challenged me to look at my world differently -- "just look up", she said, as eloquently as that. And, after doing so, I must admit things do look different -- in a different kind of way. I like to notice the little things, so this was a good exercise for me. Here are a few of those, as well as what struck me as fun/beautiful/nice/or memorable, as well as a few things I was caught doing the past few days. enjoy the hodge-podge. (you should be able to click on any image to enlarge)





























Dark chocolate on my pillow. The ebb and flow of loosing and then gaining control. Morning rituals. natural rhythms. Rain! Rain! Rain!. studying by only natural or candle light. amazingly thoughtful and emotional gifts from the heart. my favorite coffee beans from Portland. wondering what's next. Daisy & Belle: RIP 9/17/09. silence. "...I miss my bright spot being here". P90X. phone calls from Zimbabwe. "Hope the sun is shining, chickens are laying and life continues to hold you in your light cradle". painting pottery. "Happy BD, SJ. I'm so happy you were born...". Pippi Longstocking. Running in the rain. A peaceful presence. Cowboy boots. Applications & essays. Bike rides to boat piers. naps on the swing. Box fans. key-lime pies. caribou. aiming for perfect balance.

Cannery Row by John Steinbeck

This book was not what I expected, nor frankly as great as it was built up to be. It was a simple 1940's era book that took the otherwise despondent lifestyles of a community of slum-dwellers living around a fish cannery and made them come alive to the reader. While it was nice that the voices of those typically unheard were made audible, this book did not do it in the most impressionable of ways. (However, it was respectable that even the injured groundhogs were given a voice!) I think I would have liked a stronger critical approach to their situation vs. short vignettes of daily activities, which I did not feel like told me what I was looking for. Stories were good; substance was not. There are better books out there, in my opinion.

"Someone should write an erudite essay on the moral, physical, and esthetic effect of the Model T Ford on the American nation. Two generations of Americans knew more about the Ford coil than the clitoris, and the planetary system of gears than the solar system of stars." p. 61

"I think that Mack and the boys know everything that has ever happened in the world and possibly everything that will ever happen. I think they survive in this particular world better than other people. In a time when people tear themselves to pieces with ambition and nervousness and covetousness, they are relaxed. All of our so-called successful men are sick men, with bad stomachs, and bad souls, but Mack and the boys are healthy and curiously clean. They can do what they want. The can satisfy their appetites without calling them something else." p. 129

"It has always seemed strange to me...the things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling are the concomitants of failure in our system. And those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self-interest are the traits of success. And while men admire the quality of the first they love the produce of the second. " p. 131

My Magic Place

Through the continual process of making my way in this crazy, mixed up, yet beautiful world, I once again am brought to a crossroads, a juncture, a closing of a chapter and the opening of a new one. Life is made of these defining moments, yet I don't feel a firm pull to go in any one direction just yet. There are many ways to turn and much still left to do, yet I seem to not be able to make firm decisions and be certain of my way. My head is foggy and my plans unclear.

Right now, I feel like the best way to process everything in my head is to go where nothing is expected of me and I can feel out each day at will. So far, only one place I know of gives me type of silent freedom : our cabin in our woods, where I am alone to just "be". A place with no address, in the middle of the woods, down a gravel road and without a phone. I can't really put it into words how this place feels so much like home to me.

I will study and paint, read and garden, cook and sew, sleep and run, journal and think. Along with some chickens and all our dogs, I feel like I will be back on track by the end. So, I'm off to my magic spot for the next several weeks. With patchy internet and no cell phone of my own, I'm confident that my communication level will be pretty spotty -- but those of you who really keep up with me, will know how to find me.

3rd week strong and still taking note of the little things...

"hormone free. All natural" hogs. illegal Mexicans and debates over Obama politics. lovebugs. dirty catfish. 99cent organic milk. 4 wheeler riding with Mom & Dad. heart-to-hearts amongst the hay-stacks. inspirational farming lifestyles. i heart vintage. Crown & Coke. coffee at the farm with a new friend. sweet, juicy cantaloupes. seed swaps. planning the cabin/brick patio. bright pink Obama T-shirts. watching Dad reconnect with his past. Pentecostal penance. lessons of persistence. vegetable porn. seed swaps. persimmons. Stanley. ice cream in coffee. wishing, but accepting that all guys are not men. GRE study sessions. Being in bed by 9:30 so that I can get up early. being frustrated over the things that I'm always frustrated over. Mrs. Weathers. Slow Food Movement. Tarantino films. heirloom tomato madness. being let down. feeling like a black sheep all over again. controlling my internet addiction. lots of self-talk. inevitabilities.

Things that have made me smile...

my amazing cousin & his beautiful wife who enjoy and value time with family--and who both know how to hug for that extra 2 seconds, showing that it matters. being deemed the 'cultured' one of the group!. hearing how "super fantastic" it was to meet me. managing to only work 6 months a year. being told I gave someone the "best conversation of their week". feeling healthy & strong. random book recommendations made to me "because I know you like to read, Stephanie". me plus 4 pots of Folgers = a highlight of someone's weekend. Being told daily how great it is to have me home. My brother not being embarrassed to say he loves me in front of his friends. how excited Buster is to see me when I arrive home. early morning phone calls from old friends. living simply.

Prose at its finest.

"Emerson gave us last Monday evening the most brilliant lecture I ever listened to from any mortal. It was on the identity of the laws of the mind with the laws of nature. He proved conclusively that man is only a higher kind of corn, that he is a squirrel gone up into first class, that he is a liberated oyster fully educated, that he is a spiritualized pumpkin, a thinking squash, a graduated sunflower, and inspired turnip. Such imagery, such wit, such quaint things said in a tone of solemn and sublime! I have the most profound respect henceforth for every melon-vine as my ancestor. I look upon every turtle as of kin. Tonight he lectures again. I fear I may have lost it."

The Health Care Debate

I am so fired up over this health care debate. It seems that because I am involved in the medical field and an Obama supporter, people feel the need to share their (usually uninformed) opinions with me with the unspoken attempts at sparring some type of debate(less a debate & more of an argument, I've learned). I have my opinions, but I'm still learning all the details and last night was a great presentation from our President on this hot topic.

Obama's FULL Health Care Address

In case any of you didn't get to see this live, take the time to watch it now. The rumors are rampant (at least in my parts) and the facts are few. I, for one, definitely agree that it is time for a change. ... and this change is better than the alternative, i.e. no change. Working in this illustrious, money wasting, ridiculous system, some days makes me sick.

But, aside from the system's issues, I strongly agree that this is our true problem. Pollan has his finger on the pulse! It always comes back to the basics...